Old Friends, New Lives
by TVJunkie1013
Summary: HawkeyeBJ pairing. SLASH! BJ heads to Chicago on business and runs into someone he never expected to see again.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Old Friends, New Lives - Part 1  
**Author**: Lisa M  
**Pairing**: BJ/Hawkeye  
**Rating**: Sergeant  
**Disclaimer**: Nope, don't own anything. Don't sue … no money. The lyrics are from "My Sacrifice" by Creed and they own it.  
**Archive**: Anywhere, just let me know.  
**Feedback**: Would be appreciated - good or bad.  
**Spoilers**: A teeny tiny one for Goodbye, Farewell and Amen. But it shouldn't ruin the ep for you if you haven't seen it yet.  
**Summary**: BJ heads to Chicago on business and runs into someone he never expected to see again.

**A/N**: This fic is dedicated to Snarky. I missed you and am glad you're back! Also? Don't kill me … this fic is only half-finished. BUT, I wanted to get it posted because maybe that will kick me in the butt and get me to finish it. Oh, and even though I'm from the Chicago-land area, I don't necessarily know where everything is. sheepish grin Enjoy!

* * *

_I just want to say hello again._

"I really don't want to go," I cringe at the sound of my own whiny voice.

"BJ, would you listen to yourself? You sound like a ten year old boy who's just been asked to take out the garbage."

"Going to Chicago for a medical conference isn't exactly the same thing as walking to the curb with some trash, dad," I pause and glance down at my hands. They are trembling slightly. "You know I don't like to fly. I haven't since I came back from Korea."

"Well, you're the one who decided to go into thoracics. You're the one who needs to learn all of those fancy new techniques." My father shakes his head at me. "You're the one in this partnership who decided that a small family practice wasn't enough for him."

"I get your point."

"You could've stayed a GP. If you had done that, well, you'd be staying right here. Safe on the ground."

"Dad!" The more he talks, the more frustrated I get. "I'm going. Stop already."

"It's about time you decided to grow up and act like the forty-five year old man that you are."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." I stand and walk to the door of my father's office. "I'm gonna head home. I need to pack."

"Are you going to call Peg?"

"Please don't start on that. I'm really not in the mood."

"Just because you're divorced, doesn't mean that you shouldn't at least tell her you'll be gone for a week. And what about Erin?"

"I'll make sure I call Erin," I say shortly and glance back at him through the doorway. "You do realize that she's almost seventeen, right? She'd rather hang out with her friends than spend time with me, anyway. I'm sure that my being gone for seven days won't make or break her schedule."

"Still …"

"Goodbye, dad. I'll see you when I get back."

* * *

The first three days of the conference are pretty uneventful - and actually, they are downright boring. Introductions. Doctors patting themselves on the back for being so brilliant. More introductions. It's enough to make a sane man want to put a gun into his mouth and pull the trigger.

As I'm sitting through the final session of the day, my mind begins to wander; taking me back to a conversation I had with Hawkeye when we were in Korea. We were in the mess talking about what we weren't going to miss once we went home. Hawk told me that I was the only thing he'd miss and I said that we'd see each other in the states. That there would be medical conferences. He had looked at me like I was crazy and asked if I could picture either of us at a conference. We'd both laughed softly and agreed that, no, we couldn't. Then Hawk had gotten all serious - trying to get me to say goodbye. I stormed out on him, not wanting to talk about the fact that we'd be separating. Possibly forever.

On our last day, we said we'd see each other again. I'd even promised that we would. Things didn't work out that way, and after only two years of phone calls and letters, we'd lost touch.

Shortly after that, Peg and I began to have problems. I've never known whether the two things were related to each other or if it was coincidence. I guess it really doesn't matter much now. After three and a half years of struggling through therapy, Peg decided she'd had enough. She left me.

It wasn't a bitter divorce and I didn't blame her for it. In the end, I agreed to give Peg full custody and in turn, she'd let me see Erin whenever I wanted. And that arrangement worked out fine. For a while.

About a year after the final papers had been signed, Peg got remarried. Things changed completely after that. We fought almost every time we had contact. I began to see Erin less, and started to devote more of my free time to learning everything about thoracic medicine. I didn't even realize it at the time, but I'm sure that I chose to study that particular field because of Hawkeye.

And now, here I am. In Chicago, sitting through this mind-numbing, ego-boosting chatter.

With a sigh, I glance down at my notepad. A sharp, quick laugh escapes me, disrupting the lecture. Several glares are shot in my direction, but I ignore them. While reminiscing, I had sketched a picture --

-- of the still.

The speaker thankfully ends his presentation and I'm finally free for the rest of today. I stand and stretch my tired body. I exit the facility and inhale deeply, eagerly anticipating my trip back to the hotel. The sun is shining brightly - the air is temperate and comfortable. A six-block walk will allow me some time to unwind.

I get about a block away from the convention center and realize that I've left my jacket on the back of my chair. Oh well, I think. It's not like I had any pressing plans anyway. With a shrug and a smile, I turn on my heels and head back.

I re-enter the lecture hall and see my jacket hanging where I had left it. With a low chuckle, I stride down the aisle to retrieve it. I turn to leave and notice a man sitting near the back of the empty room. His head is bent very low - forehead resting on one hand, arm blocking the view of his face. All I can tell about this man is that he is very slender, has a head full of salt and pepper hair, and is completely engrossed in something that he has in his lap. I stand there and study him for a moment.

There's a vague familiarity about him. That hunched-over, focused-on-the-task-at-hand look that he has about him. An overwhelming desire to talk to him fills me. I almost decide to ignore the feeling, but then I remember something my dad said to me when I first mentioned this seminar to him.

"_Maybe your friend will be there."_

"_What friend is that, dad?"_

"_That doctor. The one you were so close with in Korea. What was his name?"_

"_Hawkeye. Hawkeye Pierce."_

"_Yeah, that's him. Wasn't he in thoracics?"_

"_He was, but I doubt that Hawk's gonna be at that seminar."_

"_Why not?"_

"_It's not his thing, dad. It's not usually mine, either."_

"_You're always saying how you should contact him again. Well, maybe he'll be there."_

I glance back at the lonely figure at the back of the auditorium. There's no way it could be Hawkeye, could it? I decide that I've got nothing to lose and with a shrug, I approach him. He doesn't even lift his head when I walk up.

"Excuse me," I say quietly and tap him lightly on the shoulder.

"Mmmmm hmmm?" comes his soft response. He glances up at me and when his clear blue eyes meet mine, my heart stops. I almost fall over in shock.

"Hawk?" I can barely get his name out. "Is that you?"

"Oh my, God!" He jumps out of his chair and all his papers flutter to the floor. "BJ! BJ Hunnicutt!"

Hawkeye grabs me and wraps me in a tight embrace. I slide my own arms around him and squeeze back as hard as I can.

"I can't believe it," I whisper against his hair. "I just can't believe it."

"Beej, is it really you? I feel like I should pinch myself. Or pinch you. To see if this is a dream."

"It's not a dream, Hawk. I'm here. And so are you." We untangle ourselves and step back from each other. I can't keep the smile off my face. "What are you doing here?"

"I know what I'm doing here, Beej. I'm a thoracics specialist and this is a thoracics conference. What are you doing here?"

"I guess I'm learning how to be a thoracics specialist," I say with a smirk.

"You mean I was actually a good influence on someone?"

"Looks that way."

"Well, that's not going to be good for my reputation."

"Don't worry. I won't let it get around. Your secret's safe with me."

"Thanks." His smile grows. "Let me take a look at you." I take a few steps away from him and twirl in a little circle. "God, it's so good to see you, Beej. It's been, what, fifteen years since we left Korea?"

"Something like that, yes."

"I'm sorry we lost touch."

"Hawk, don't apologize. I let it happen, too."

"So, how are things with you? How's Peg and Erin?" I feel myself go tense at the mention of my ex-wife's name. Hawkeye, perceptive as he always has been, notices my discomfort immediately. "What's wrong? Did something happen to Erin or Peg?"

"I think I'm going to need a few drinks before having that conversation."

"Okay. I know the perfect place. Not much to look at, but they make a killer martini. Drier than the desert in a drought. As long as you don't mind a short cab ride."

"Not at all."

"Well, then, let's go."

"I'm all yours, Hawk."

* * *

_Hello my friend, we meet again  
__It's been a while, where should we begin  
__Feels like forever  
__  
__Within my heart are memories  
__Of perfect love that you gave to me  
__Oh, I remember_

"This place sorta reminds me of Rosie's," I take a slow sip of my drink. "Minus the war, the shelling, the rats."

Hawkeye nods and glances in my direction. An uncomfortable silence begins to settle around us. It's very unnerving because there has never been an uncomfortable moment between us. Not really.

"So," I say in an attempt to fill in the gap before it swallows us entirely. "How are things in Maine?"

"I actually don't know. I've been in Boston for almost five years now."

"Boston?"

"Yeah. After my dad died …"

"Oh, Hawk. I'm so sorry. I hadn't heard."

"Don't be sorry. He died peacefully in his sleep. Just like he'd always wanted."

"When?"

"Six years ago."

"What happened? A stroke?"

"Yep. It was a massive one - killed him instantly."

"Well, I guess if you're gonna go, that's the way to do it."

"Yeah," he pauses and finishes his martini. "After he was gone, I decided I needed a change of scenery. So I moved to Boston. I've been at Boston General for just over four years now. Charles and I …"

"Charles? Emerson Winchester? The third?"

"The same. When I decided I was moving to Boston, I looked him up - gave him a call. He mentioned that they were looking for someone in his department. They hired me immediately. I didn't even interview. I got the job based on his recommendation alone. Anyway, we've been co-chairs of the cardiovascular/thoracics department since last year."

"Well, I'll be damned. You and Charles, together again. Has he changed at all?"

"Not really. He's still an egotistical snob. But it's much easier to stomach when you're only working together and not living, eating and breathing five feet away from him."

I laugh and order another round of drinks.

"What about you, Beej?" He glances at me out of the corner of his eyes. "Had enough yet?"

"Peg and I," I sigh deeply and turn my eyes to my martini. "We're divorced."

"What happened?"

"You know, I'm still not entirely sure. Things were never the same once I got back from Korea. I was having nightmares a lot. Sullen. Distant. Peg couldn't understand why I was acting the way that I was. Why I needed some space for myself from time to time. And I couldn't understand why Peg couldn't understand. Things were okay for a while, but once you and I lost touch, our marriage went downhill. Fast. It was like the one outlet I had to channel all of my issues about Korea into was gone, and I started to pull further and further away from her."

Hawkeye begins to speak, but I hold up my hand to silence him.

"It's not your fault, Hawk. Like I said, I let our friendship fade, too." I take a sip of my drink. "Anyway, we tried therapy. Three and a half years of it. Didn't take. She filed and we got divorced. I let her have full custody of Erin, but Peg being Peg, let me see her whenever I wanted. Then, about a year after the divorce was final, Peg got remarried."

"Uh oh."

"Yeah. We started fighting whenever we saw or spoke to each other. My relationship with Erin became strained - partially because of the situation, partially because of her getting too old for 'daddy'. Needless to say, we don't have much contact anymore."

"Beej, I'm really sorry."

I nod and refocus on my drink. The silence begins to surround us again, but this time it's the familiar silence that we've always shared between us. I glance over at Hawkeye and notice that he's running his finger along the edge of his glass. I feel a smirk curling the corner of my lips.

"Something else on your mind, Hawk?"

"What makes you think that?"

"That," I answer, pointing to his fingertip sliding over the smooth glass.

"My finger?"

"Hawkeye, when we were in Korea, you would always do that when you were thinking about something."

"Really?" I nod in response. His eyes shift to his hand and he watches himself unconsciously trace the edge of the drink. "Huh. I guess I never noticed."

"Well, I think we all had something - some sort of tick, that we used to transfer our stresses to while we were there. Mine was darning socks. Yours was … that."

Hawkeye doesn't respond and keeps running his finger around his glass. Once and a while, he dips the tip into the gin and when he places it back on the rim, a soft humming fills the air. Something about the sound is making me very anxious. My skin begins to prickle with goosebumps.

"So?"

He jumps at the sound of my voice, his hand dropping to the bar and away from his glass. Now I know he's got something on his mind, and I have a sneaking suspicion that is has to do with Korea.

"Would you just spit it out already," I say with a grin. "That humming is making me crazy!"

"It's nothing," he replies and lifts his hand again. Before he can reach his glass, I place my hand over his, and hold it against the bar.

"Do you think I don't know you, Hawk? Do you think I can't read you like a goddamn book?" I tighten my grip on his hand. "It's obviously not nothing, so just tell me."

"I was," he swallows roughly and glances around the almost-deserted pub. Then, he turns his eyes to mine. "Thinking about Korea. About that night."

_That _night. I remember it clearly.

We'd had a rough day in OR. Both of us had lost a patient - no they weren't just patients. They were only kids. Eighteen, nineteen at the most. After we finished for the day, we'd filled up a couple of hot water bottles with gin and had taken off to hide. And to get stinking drunk. We wanted to be away. To escape. Even if it was only for a few hours. Just beyond camp, we had found a small cove situated next to the pond. It was early morning - two or three a.m. probably - and the sky was still pitch black. We were completely hidden. Invisible.

We began to drink. And drink. Until we were both numb. Or at least, I thought we were. I lost it. Broke into sobs that shook my entire body. Hawkeye had grabbed me and wrapped his arms around me. He held me and stroked my back until my shaking subsided. Then he'd pulled away slightly and brushed away my tears with his fingertips. I opened my eyes and met his. Through the darkness, I saw such passion, such wanting, reflected in his gaze, that it almost knocked me over. I reached out and grabbed the front of his shirt and held on tightly. Hawkeye moved his hand to the back of my neck and he pulled me forward.

Our mouths connected in a bruising kiss. Lips, teeth, tongues - all moved together. Heated. Breathless. I clung to him as if I were a drowning man and he was a life-saving raft. My body began to respond to him. Blood and heat rushed into my groin and I became fully erect. I jerked away from Hawkeye, shoving him back in the process. Jumping to my feet, I brushed my hand over my swollen lips.

"I can't do this, Hawk."

"Beej …"

"No," I had said and turned away. "I'm sorry. I want to, but I can't."

Those were my last words to him that night. I had rushed off into the blackness, leaving my best friend behind. Sitting there, all alone. To Hawkeye's credit, he'd never brought it up. We never spoke of it. We went along as if nothing had even happened that night.

But I always knew, deep down, that it would be discussed. Somewhere, somehow, it would be resolved. And it seemed like now was going to be that time.

"Yeah, I think we should talk about it," I say and finish off my drink.

"I've thought about it a lot over the years."

"Me, too."

"I still don't know what I was thinking."

"You were trying to make me feel better. You were probably trying to make yourself feel better, too."

"Yeah, but you were my best friend. My married, male, best friend." Hawkeye is starting to ramble non-stop and it brings a smile to my face. It's so - him.

"That's true," I manage to interject.

"And I'd never done anything like that before. Not even with Trapper." I stiffen at the mention of the man's name, but Hawk doesn't notice and keeps rattling on. "And I always knew that he would've been willing. He made it perfectly clear to me. On more than one occasion."

"Okay," I say and order two more drinks.

"It was a mistake, BJ." His voice cracks and he clears his throat. "And, I'm sorry."

"Hawk," I place my hand under his chin and turn his face toward mine. His eyes swim with unshed tears. I know they won't ever fall, and that's okay. "The only mistake that night was made by me."

"What?"

"I should have stayed with you." As I pull my hand away from his face, I trace my thumb over his bottom lip. The air around us begins to buzz with static. "I never should have walked away."

"Beej," he starts, but I shake my head and he stops speaking.

"I'm done talking about this, Hawk."

My friend's eyes cloud over with confusion and his face falls. I feel the corner of my mouth lift into a grin.

"I may be finished talking," I say and stand. I finish my drink in one long swallow and toss some money onto the bar. "But, this conversation is far from over."

The glint returns to Hawkeye's sky-blue eyes.

"Are you suggesting a change of venue?"

"Yes, I believe that I am."

"You sure?"

"Are you," I ask carefully, tilting my head to the side, but not losing eye contact. I can hear the challenge in my voice.

"Let's go," he answers, tone matching mine. "Where to?"

"I'm staying at the W on Adams."

"I'm much closer."

"What're we waiting for?"

_We've seen our share of ups and downs  
__Oh how quickly life can turn around  
__In an instant_

_It feels so good to reunite  
__Within yourself and within your mind\  
__Let's find peace there_

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title**: Old Friends, New Lives - Part 2  
**Author**: Lisa M  
**Pairing**: BJ/Hawkeye  
**Rating**: R  
**Disclaimer**: Nope, don't own anything. Don't sue … no money. The lyrics are from "My Sacrifice" by Creed and they own it.  
**Archive**: Anywhere, just let me know.  
**Feedback**: Would be appreciated - good or bad.  
**Spoilers**: A teeny tiny one for Goodbye, Farewell and Amen. But it shouldn't ruin the ep for you if you haven't seen it yet.  
**Summary**: BJ and Hawkeye have crossed paths in Chicago - and have decided to finish something that was started almost 20 years before while they were in Korea.

**A/N:** There are some POV shifts in this section. It was done that way on purpose. I wanted poor Hawkeye to get in some time too.

* * *

The cab pulls up in front of the pub and we climb into the rear seat. I give the name of my hotel and sit back to enjoy the ride. BJ shifts slightly and moves closer to me. As soon as his shoulder touches mine, I flash back to Korea. The way we were always together. Inseparable. 'Siamese twins joined at the shoulders' as Margaret used to affectionately say. And it was true. 

I turn my head and glance at him. His eyes meet mine and he gives me that same shy smile from all those years ago. My heart begins to pound and I return his smile. BJ places his hand on my thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. My hand covers his for a moment, but we both withdraw from each other.

The air within the vehicle warms as electricity passes between us. Thankfully, the ride is short, because by the time we arrive at the hotel, I feel like I'm about to spontaneously combust. My shirt is soaked with sweat and I'm so hard that I'm almost afraid to get out of the cab.

I toss the cabbie some money and notice that BJ is also having his own difficulties with exiting. I almost laugh, but I hold myself in check and fumble around in my now extremely tight front pants pocket for my room key. The lobby is empty, save for the clerk at the front counter. He nods as we walk by.

"What floor are you on?" BJ asks as we stand waiting for the elevator. He's rocking back and forth on his feet - heel, toe, heel, toe, heel, toe. It's slightly unnerving.

"Thirteen."

"That's a pretty unlucky number."

"We'll see about that," I mutter with a smirk. The doors open and we enter. They slip shut and BJ grabs me. He pushes me against the wall of the elevator, devouring my mouth with his. Twelve floors pass very quickly, but by the time the bell rings to signal our arrival at thirteen, BJ's lips have driven me to the point of panting. He releases me and I lead him to my room. My hand is shaking so badly that I can't get the key into the lock fast enough. I wind up dropping it to the floor, and quickly retrieve it, jamming it into its place.

The second the door closes behind us, I grab BJ by the front of his shirt and jerk him forward. I hear him gasp as my mouth closes over his. His body is tight and tense, but he gradually relaxes and folds against me. I feel his arms go around me, his hands balling into fists, my shirt woven tightly between his fingers. One quick tug upward and his hands are caressing the skin of my lower back. I place my hand on the back of his head and slide it into his wavy hair, deepening our kiss.

I press against BJ and, with minimal force, begin to lead him backwards out of the room. Moments later, we are in my bedroom. I keep walking until the backs of his knees connect with the bed. With one gentle shove, he tumbles onto it.

"That wasn't very nice," he says and props himself up on his elbows, fixing me with a smoldering gaze.

"Is nice what you want?"

BJ cocks his head to the side and studies me as I pull my shirt over my head. His eyes follow my fingers down to the button at the front of my pants. I push the small circular object through its hole and begin to lower the zipper. I pause halfway and lift my eyes. BJ smirks at me and abruptly sits. He grabs me and pulls me on top of him. We fall to the bed as one.

"No," he says, threading his slender fingers into my hair and pulling my mouth to his. "I want you."

Our lips meet in a crushing kiss. Clothes are removed and tossed unceremoniously to the floor. Two sets of hands and fingers roam and explore skin and muscle. We roll around on the bed like a couple of teenagers fumbling their way through their first time.

The room begins to spin and I realize that I can't breathe. No, it's not that I can't. I just haven't, and I'm not sure I want to. Breathing means pulling away from BJ which is the exact opposite of what I want. But, the doctor in my head knows I have to, so I break the kiss and inhale deeply. BJ flips to his side, rolling me onto mine, and props his face up on his hand. I glance over at him and smile.

"Hawk, before we go any further you need to know something. It's been a really long time since I've had sex. I'm not even sure I remember how. Not to mention the fact that I've never … been with another man before."

"Well, it's been a while for me too, Beej. I mean, I haven't been with a man since Trap …," I pause, a guilty expression forming on my face, and try to backtrack quickly. "I mean, I don't …"

"It's okay," he starts, placing a fingertip to my lips. "I know all about you and Trapper. You don't have to try and hide it, or lie about it, or even try to explain."

"How?"

"Come on, Hawk. Give me some credit. I figured it out. I mean, I felt it from the very first time we met. You were so upset that day you and Radar picked me up in Kimpo. 'Ten minutes' you kept saying over and over again. And there were times when you'd say his name in your sleep. That's not exactly something a 'friend' would do," he admits quietly and wraps his arms around me. "Eventually, you stopped talking about him, awake or asleep, and I'm assuming it was right around the same time that I became 'Beej' to you instead of just 'Captain BJ Hunnicutt, also known as Trapper's replacement'."

"You were never 'just' his replacement, Beej."

"Yes, I was and that's okay. I understood," BJ brushes a stray piece of hair away from my forehead and slides his hand down to cup my chin. "But, why didn't you tell me about the two of you?"

"I wasn't sure how," I lean into his touch.

"Well, usually you open your mouth and words come out."

"Ha ha ha. Funny."

"Sorry. It's just that in all the years I've known you, you've never been at a loss for words. Why were you that time?" BJ strokes his thumb along my jawline.

"I don't know. I guess I wasn't sure how you felt about stuff like that."

"Like … what?"

"Men being with other men, what."

"Oh, that."

"I didn't know how you'd react," I turn my head and place a quick kiss on the tip of his thumb.

"You felt that way even after _that_ night?"

"Beej, do you remember what happened? What _exactly_ happened that night?" I push away from him slightly, propping myself up on my elbow.

"Of course I do. We kissed."

"No, I kissed you."

"I kissed back!"

"Yes, you did. And then you jumped up and ran away and we never talked about it again," I say and sigh heavily, laying my head down on his chest. "After that, I was even less sure about bringing up Trapper's and my past activities."

"Do you want to talk about it now? I obviously have no issues concerning men being with other men, do I?"

I sense rather than see BJ's lips curl into that huge toothy smile that used to light up the 4077th -- even on the grayest of gray days. Any discomfort I may have been feeling evaporates in an instant.

"Not really. That's in the past and it never went anywhere beyond a physical thing anyway. Not like with …"

"Me?" BJ says in a playful tone and I glance up at him. He bats his eyelashes at me and I laugh. I shift my body so I'm laying on top of him again, and I kiss him gently.

"Trapper's nothing like you," I whisper against his hair.

BJ pulls my mouth back to his and my heart quickens, familiar heat pooling between us. I break from him and move my lips to his collarbone. His back arches when I begin to suck at his skin. I move down his body, lips, tongue and hands mapping out every inch of his tan skin. I inhale the scent of BJ - light soap, fading musky cologne, and that sun-kissed summer smell that is pure California. I feel his fingers tangle into my hair, wrapping within the strands.

When my mouth closes over his erection, his body goes rigid, back arching, breath catching. Smiling slightly, I take him all the way in, swallowing him whole. BJ groans deeply as I begin to slide up and down his length. Within moments, the veins beneath the skin of his silky member are pulsing hotly. I pull away before he goes over the edge and he growls in frustration.

"Haaaaawk," he begs.

"Not yet," I whisper and crawl up his body. Positioning myself between his legs, I slide my fingers over his entrance and BJ tenses. "Beej, relax," I sigh against his chest. "I promise I won't hurt you."

BJ's muscles loosen and I slowly insert one, then two fingers into him. Air hisses out between his teeth, but as I slide my fingers out and back in, his body responds to me. I remove my fingers and gently roll him onto his side. I settle in behind him and place the tip of my penis at his entrance. Carefully, I push into him. He groans softly - a mixture of pain and pleasure evident in the sound.

"Slowly, Hawk."

I do as he asks and slide into him, inch by inch, slowly, until I'm fully inside him. He's warm and tight and every cell in my body is screaming for me to just take him. But I don't. I ignore the swirling lust within me and wait for him to get used to my intrusion. Only when he begins to move against me, do I even start to thrust.

I pump into him as I wrap my hand around his erection. It's over pretty quickly - it's been a while, remember? BJ comes first - panting and moaning, spilling his silken seed into my grasp. I follow moments later, his name slipping from my lips in a breathy sigh.

"My God."

"I know, Beej. I know."

BJ turns over and folds me into his arms. Sated, we fall asleep, wrapped around each other, sticky and sweaty, and not really giving a crap. The mess can wait.

* * *

"Dad? ... Hey, it's me. … Yeah, I know it's late. I just wanted to let you know that I'm gonna stay in Chicago for a few extra days. Could you do me a favor and reschedule all of my appointments for the week? ... Uh huh. .. Great. Oh, and call Erin too? ... Okay. … Thanks. ... Yeah, I will. Bye, dad." 

I lean over Hawkeye's naked body and drop the handset back into its cradle. Curling my body against him, my lips caress the smooth skin at the base of his neck. He groans in appreciation and arches his back into me. My rapidly growing erection presses against him.

"Mmmmmm. So soon?" he mumbles, grinding his tailbone into my pelvis.

"Can't. seem. to. get. enough." My words are punctuated with small kisses to his shoulders.

"I really should call," his voice chokes off as I wrap my hand around his penis. "Charles."

"Okay," I whisper against his ear. "But don't expect me to wait while you're doing it."

Hawkeye leans over and dials Charles' phone number. As soon as he has the headset at his ear, I pull him back to me and immediately place my hand on him again.

"Charles, it's Hawkeye. … Yes, of course I can tell time. … No, I haven't lost my mind. Yet," he adds under his breath as I tighten my grip on him and begin pumping along his length. I slide my solidness between the tight globes of his buttocks and tease his entrance with the tip. He gasps and throws his head back onto my shoulder.

"Look, Charles, I don't need a lecture on time zones right now! I'm just calling to let you know," he inhales sharply as I push into him slowly. "Uh … what? … No, I'm not sick. You're imagining things. … My breathing? … Oh that. Something startled me, that's all. … It's BJ. … Yeah, he's here at the conference, too. He just walked back in the room. … No. He went to get us some food. … When he opened the door, it startled me."

I begin to move in and out of him.

"Oh, my God," Hawkeye's free hand clutches at the sheet in front of him. "What? … BJ really brought a lot of … food. For us. … Really? Why? … Okay, hang on a sec." Hawkeye holds the phone against the pillow and turns his head to face me. "He wants to talk to you."

"What? Why?" I go still behind him and he groans.

"God, don't stop," he hisses and pushes against me. I slide out of him and push back in as hard as I can. He groans again, very loudly, and his muscles clench around me.

"How's that?" I ask and repeat the thrust. The phone slips out of his hand and clatters to the floor.

"Damn!" He reaches out, grabs the cord and pulls it back to his side. "Here," he says gritting his teeth and holding the receiver over his shoulder. I release his erection and take the phone. He sighs in frustration.

"Sorry, but I only have one available hand." I clear my throat. "Chuck! Hey, how are you, buddy? Long time no see. … What? … Oh, sorry about that. My hand was … slippery. From the food. I dropped the phone. Greasy take out, you know. … Hmm? … Yeah. … Yeah." I laugh and Hawkeye glances over his shoulder at me, a confused expression on his face. "I think I can manage to do that for you. No, it … uh … won't be a problem. … What? … Sure thing. Hang on."

I tuck the receiver into my pillow and brush my lips over Hawkeye's ear.

"He wants to talk to you again," I breathe, nibbling at the lobe of sensitive flesh. A guttural rumble in the back of his throat and a shake of his head are his only answers. I place the phone against my ear. "Sorry, Charles. He's in the bathroom. … Yeah, he said something about … pressure. In his bowels." Hawkeye laughs softly and I bump him with my elbow. "Uh huh. … Okay. Don't worry. He's in good hands. … Yep. … Good talking to you, too. … Okay, Charles. Bye."

"What, may I ask, are you going to do for him?"

"He thinks you've lost it. Cracked up. Went bonkers. So he told me to keep an eye on you. Make sure that you don't spend all of your money on poker and booze and women of ill-repute." I toss the phone and it bangs against the nightstand, then falls to the floor. My hand returns to his groin and my lips to his back. "I don't think that's going to be an issue. Do you?"

* * *

That first night is spent talking and laughing and, well, doing other things - if you understand my meaning. When the sun rises in the morning, I drag myself out of Hawkeye's warm arms, head to my hotel, pack my stuff, check out and rush right back to this very room. 

The next few days fly past. We spend our mornings and afternoons at the conference; though, we learned very quickly that we have to sit on opposite sides of the room. If we don't, we're both so aroused - just from being next to each other - that neither of us can concentrate on anything. And the techniques we are here to learn are actually important to both of our careers.

Evenings are spent in the hotel room. Sometimes, we do some of the normal touristy stuff. I've never been to Chicago, and since Hawkeye has, he shows me around a little. Personally, I'd have been happy to stay in bed and order room service, but he tells me that there was no way he'd let me come to Chicago and not taste 'Adam's ribs'. I don't argue with him.

I can't remember a time when I've been happier, more content, than I am during these seven days. When the last one finally comes, I beg Hawkeye to stay here, in the room, with me. And he does. Both of us know that our time together is coming to an end. As the hours pass, the silence between our couplings grows deeper and sadder. All I can do is pull Hawkeye close and hold him tight - and pray for time to slow down.

"Hey," Hawkeye says as he traces lazy circles on my chest. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," I reply and run my fingers through his silky hair.

"Where do we go from here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what now?"

"I don't know," I try and keep my voice neutral, but I can hear a slight trembling in my words. My body begins to tense and I will it to stop.

"That's not an answer, Beej."

"It's the only one I can give you," I cringe inwardly at the hollowness of my words.

"That's not good enough," he snaps back and rolls away from me. With a frustrated sigh, he stands and walks over to the window. I follow his lead, and push myself up and off the bed. I approach him slowly.

"What do you want me to say, Hawk? What do you want from me?"

"What do I want?" He spins around to face me, eyes blazing with anger. "I want to know that you're not going to walk away from me, again. That the last seven days have meant something to someone other than me."

"Hawk," I start, reaching out to place my hand on his shoulder. He bats it away roughly.

"Don't touch me. Not right now."

"Fine," I say and cross my arms over my bare chest. "Whatever you want." My own anger is beginning to build. I can feel it coiling deep within me. And I know that it's reflected in my eyes. I've never been very good at concealing my emotions from him.

"Don't you dare get mad at me, BJ Hunnicutt! You have no right. You," he punctuates each word by jabbing at my ribcage with his fingertip. "Aren't the one who's had to sit in the background all these years. And you aren't the one who's had to hide or ignore his feelings." A sharp sob escapes him and he turns his back on me once again. "You aren't the one who was left behind."

"And you don't know how wrong you are."

"About what exactly?"

"You aren't the only one who had to hide their feelings. Ignore them. But, what was I supposed to do, Hawk? Abandon my family?" I'm trying as hard as I can to control my anger, but I can't. "What kind of man would that have made me?"

"I never asked you to leave anyone," Hawkeye's words are short and tight. "All I wanted was some sign that you cared. In Korea, I understood why you couldn't give me that. Why you couldn't be with me. But you don't have that to hide behind anymore."

"They're still my family." Hawkeye laughs sharply. "What's that laugh supposed to mean?"

"Family? BJ, you told me that you can barely stand to be in the same room with Peg. And Erin," his words are dripping with sarcasm. "How much longer do you think your teenaged daughter is going to want to be 'daddy's little girl'?"

"Keep them out of this, Hawkeye. Just because I don't give a hang about my ex-wife, doesn't mean you can pull her into this. And Erin is still my daughter. She will always be my daughter, no matter how old she gets. I won't leave her for anyone," I sigh sadly and turn away from him. "I love you, Hawk. God help me, I do. But I can't leave Mill Valley. I just can't. Not even for you."

Hawkeye doesn't say a word. I find my clothes, get dressed and quickly pack my things. All of this is done in stony silence. Waves of hostility are flowing off of my friend and crashing against me. I feel the tears welling in my eyes and force them to remain unshed. I glance in his direction one final time.

"I'm sorry, Hawkeye."

I close the door behind me and lean against it. A single tear runs down my cheek and splashes on the back of my hand. I reach up and angrily brush the moisture from my face.

"Damn it!" I say to the empty hall, and as I turn to leave, I wonder if I'm making another huge mistake.

* * *

I've been back for well over a month now, and everything I ever loved about Mill Valley, about my home, only makes me feel more alone. More isolated. I can't concentrate. I have no focus. I find myself drifting, daydreaming, thinking of far away places. Of Chicago. Of Crabapple Cove. 

And of Hawkeye.

Numerous letters, far too many to count, have been started, then crumpled and thrown into the trash. The telephone has been picked up, the number dialed. Then the moment a voice is heard on the other side of the line, the phone is placed back into its cradle.

I don't know why I always run. I ran from Peg in the beginning. I ran from Hawkeye … twice.

I turn my head and glance at the small photo I now keep on my desk. Hawk and me standing at the perfect spot on Navy Pier so that the sun is setting behind us. It is a snapshot of one moment of pure happiness. I trace my fingertip over Hawkeye's image, a smile playing at the corners of my mouth.

For the life of me, I can't figure out what I'm so afraid of.

* * *

It's been two months since Chicago. Two months and I can still hear the sound of that door closing behind him. The feel of the carpet as I collapsed to my knees the moment he was gone. The ache inside of me when I realized that this time it was for good. I would never see BJ Hunnicutt again. 

I've been working non-stop since then, burying myself so deeply, trying in vain to forget that day, that week. The sound of us. The smell of us. The unquenchable desire inside of me for something I should have known I could never truly have.

Charles is worried about me. I know he is. He comes to my office, checking on me regularly, asking if I need to talk. Offering his ear. My answer is always no. How could he even begin to understand? Homosexuality, in his eyes, is an abomination. And, while he is my friend, it would be unacceptable to him. He would never say a word to anyone - I'm sure of that, but our relationship would be undoubtedly damaged.

And now that BJ is gone, Charles is my final lifeline.

I guess he's finally had enough of me, because today, he calls me into his office for a meeting.

"You are sullen. You are moody," Charles is ticking reasons off with his fingers. "You are on the verge of burnout. No one can take you anymore. Take some time off, Pierce."

"I don't need …" He holds up his hand, effectively cutting me off.

"It is not a suggestion."

"You pulling rank on me, Major? You do realize that we aren't in Korea anymore, right?"

"Ha! You never followed orders when we _were_ in Korea. Why would I expect anything different now? But I am insisting that you go home. As a colleague and a friend. You have been very out of sorts since returning from Chicago. I am extremely worried about you."

"I'm fine," I say, cringing inwardly at the falseness of my words. "But since you asked so nicely."

"Thank you."

I nod and stand to leave. Reaching out, I grasp his hand and we shake. As I move to pull away, his grip on me tightens.

"Hawkeye," he says, the obvious worry etched into his clear blue eyes. "If you need anything …"

"I know."

* * *

A soft knocking on the front door wakes me from my nap. A quick glance at the clock tells me it's just about 4:30pm. I've slept longer than I'd planned - but I was dreaming. 

About him.

Slowly, I stand and rub the slumber from my eyes. The tapping, more insistent this time, forces me into motion.

"Coming," I shout and wrap my robe around myself. "Give an old man a second."

I grasp the knob and turn it. The door swings inward.

"What can I do for …," my voice dies in my throat.

"Hawk."

One word. That single-syllable shortening of my name. I've heard it countless times. So simple. But on his lips, spoken so quietly, so reverently, it's anything but simple.

"I'm sorry," BJ has tears in his eyes. "I'm so sorry."

He pulls me into a crushing embrace, his hands slipping into my hair. Warm words brush against my skin, but as much as I want to, I can't seem to raise my own arms to return his gesture. Instead, I back away slightly and his grip loosens.

"Beej, I can't …" Words fail me. I lift my eyes to his and what I see reflected in those crystal blue ovals stills any uncertainty - any doubt I may have had. "You know what? I don't care. The only thing that matter is that you're here."

My lips cover his.

_When you are with me, I'm free.  
I'm careless, I believe._

**The End**


End file.
